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The Fish And The Sniper

As promised long ago, I have started work on my book, entitled “The Fish and The Sniper”, this is my first draft of the beginning, setting the scene for a story of epic dis-proportions. Feedback very much unwelcome. I’m in my own world and I’m happy here. It’s somewhat relaxing. In a scary, psychadelic, OH-MY-GOD-I’VE-LOST-IT sort of a way.

For years, men have fought. Sometimes with other men, sometimes with themselves, sometimes with odd looking trees that look a bit like Hitler in the dark.

There are however, some rivalries that go deeper than the odd disagreement, deep enough to void the warranty on most consumer electronics. In this case, scuba deep.

The Fish And The Sniper

The fish appears quite nonchalant considering his foe (in fact, my fish are always nonchalant). He may appear badly drawn and distorted, but that's obviously the effects of seeing him through the scope and through the water.

No one would have thought that the two most contrasting of existences… that of the humble fish… and that of the angry sniper… could have clashed quite so spectacularly…..

Our story begins, somewhere between nought and ninety seventy thousand hundred years ago, during one of the many wars that has plagued our islands history. A war fought between the archers of England and the fisherman of Scotland.
For a while both areas of differently accented people co-existed peacefully, separated by the river Hadrian, and united with an immense hatred of European culture (Incidentally the river which was later converted into a Roman style wall by the National Trust, in an attempt to take advantage of tourists want for all things shoddy and Roman. A want which would later make Time Team the most successful failure in archaeological history).

Scots would listen politely to tales of English conquests and achievements – most of which involved lies about dragons, and tales of money off coupons with special packs of Kelloggs breakfast cereals. At the same time, the English would quietly ignore the Scottish, not because of any particular ill feeling or mistrust, but because they really had no idea what any of them were saying. A tradition that continues in pubs across the land to this day.

This harmony wouldn’t last however.

Historical records are poor (many of them being Barry Manilow covers), but we can ascertain that on approximately the 16th March 1089, between 9.05 and 9.15, in between the BBC Breakfast news and the generic programme about time limited DIY, that one small mishap ruined relations for the next 500 years.

Obviously that’s not it. I just lack energy to complete it right now. Still, if you’re a publisher and want to give me a £50,000 advance and little stickers saying “Author” to put on my business cards then get in touch. I work faster with large wads of cash stuffed in my pockets.

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